The Fountain of Youth
by KCraine
Summary: What happens when Elizabeth realizes her children are resentful of their father? Rating may change in later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **The Fountain of Youth (title may be changed later)

**Pairing: **J. Sparrow/E. Swann

**Rating:** T (may or may not change with later entries)

**Chapter Summary: **Elizabeth has just seen Will off after ten years of absence. Just as the Dutchman fades, a new ship looms on the horizon with some familiar faces.

* * *

_Ten Years After Will Sailed Away_

Elizabeth stood on the bluffs, her arm around her oldest son, Billy, watching as the sails of the Flying Dutchman vanished in a flash of unnatural green light on the horizon. Tears filled her eyes, just as they had the last time she and Will had parted. But she wouldn't let them fall. She had to stay strong, for Billy. The admiration that had been in his eyes when his father had returned had gone; in its place was hurt, betrayal. He hadn't wanted his father to leave, even though he had known he would.

"Come along, sweetheart," she said, ushering him away from the cliffs and back toward the house. "Time for chores."

Billy didn't budge, though; he merely continued to stare out at the darkening horizon. Elizabeth smiled regretfully and turned to go. As she stepped away, his childish voice rang out, "Mama! Look! He's coming back!"

Startled, Elizabeth turned. There, on the horizon, just barely visible in the wan light, was a ship. But it wasn't the Dutchman; it was too small. It looked to be a merchant ship, but the only one to visit the island wasn't due to arrive for several more weeks. Furrowing her brow, Elizabeth pulled her collapsible spyglass from her apron pockets and clicked it open. Indeed it was a merchant ship, but the sails were wrong. The sails were…No. It couldn't be. The Black Pearl had been commandeered by Barbossa; she hadn't seen hide nor hair of him for ten years. Surely Barbossa didn't want something from her now.

"Billy," she said sternly. "Get to the house."

"But Mama…" the little boy argued.

"_Now,_ William." Elizabeth rarely snapped at her son, and referred to him as William even less. She turned him, none too gently, toward the house. "Hurry."

Sighing, the boy followed his mother back to the little house they shared. Though she hated to see him upset, Elizabeth couldn't, _wouldn't,_ let anything happen to her son. Going to her room, she pulled her pistol from the hope chest at the foot of her bed. The metal felt odd in her hands; she hadn't fired it in years. Checking to see if it was still loaded, she pulled her cutlass and scabbard from the chest as well, strapped them on, and left the room. Billy, ever inquisitive, watched in wide eyed fascination.

"Mother!" he exclaimed. "I never knew you had a sword."

Elizabeth ignored him, heading to the door of the house. Just before leaving, she turned to her son and said, "Stay here, Billy."

"But…"

"No buts, William," she snapped. "Stay here where it's safe. Understand?"

Cowed by the use of his full name not once, but twice, Billy sank to a kitchen chair, pouting.

_Better he be upset with me than dead by pirates, _Elizabeth told herself. When she was sure her headstrong son wouldn't follow, she made her way down to the beach. The merchantman was fast; what had been barely a speck on the horizon a mere half hour before, now set a longboat in the water. A solitary figure was rowing it to shore. Cocking her pistol behind her back, Elizabeth waited, tense.

The longboat pulled to shore, and the figure rose. He paused to look at her, his body wrapped in a cloak that covered his hair and most of his face. The term _nefarious_ was screaming through Elizabeth's head, and her hand threatened to tremble. No. She would not show fear. After all, she had fought pirates, naval men, and even sea monsters; a lone, seemingly unarmed opponent would not frighten her.

Without a word, the figure returned his attention to the boat, hauling it up the shore so that it would be safe from the tide. Elizabeth watched as he then turned and headed toward her. Eyes narrowing at his boldness, she pulled the cocked pistol from behind her back, aiming it right at him. "One more step and it'll be toward the Dutchman," she growled.

A familiar chuckle sounded from under the cloak, and Elizabeth blinked in shock. "Come, come, Lizzy," the voice said. He pulled away the cloak and her eyes widened further. "Is that any way to treat an old friend?"

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**Author's Note: **What do you guys think? I got this really great Sparrabeth story beginning in my head a few nights ago, and I've been _dying_ to get it down here. I know, to an extent, what will happen, but I'm hoping you guys can give me advice for later on. Like I said, it's only the beginning. So, comments on how you think it is so far would be much appreciated.


	2. Chapter 2

"Jack!" Lizzy squealed his name. Tossing her pistol to the sand and flinging her small arms around him, her voice was muffled by his cloak. "I thought you were dead! There's been no word on your whereabouts for ten years."

He smiled his Jack Sparrow smile and returned her embrace, albeit with less enthusiasm. Neither Davy Jones' Locker nor ten years of separation had quelled his desire for her; ever since her method of distracting him to shackle him to the mast of his own ship. Sure, when he'd first seen her again in the Locker, he'd been angry. But he couldn't hold a grudge against her; she was too much like him. Therefore, he merely held her. "Aye," he said , chuckling. "Ten years since I was marooned, so to speak. But I've been looking for somethin', savvy?" His eyebrows rose conspiratorially.

Elizabeth pulled away and gave him a skeptical once over. She gave him a blatant sniff. Surprised at the lack of alcoholic stench that usually clung to him, she said, "You're sober." It wasn't a question.

Another chuckle. "Aye," he repeated. "Gibbs is on board, wishin' I had brought him ashore so he could get a swig of ale."

Rolling her eyes, Elizabeth said, "I don't condone drinking, Captain Sparrow, as you well know. Especially not with Billy here. Though I'm sure they'd have it on the other side of the island."

Jack nodded. "Gibbs'll be sailin' there now with the rest of the crew," he replied. Surprised to find that she hadn't paid the merchantman any more attention after it had released the lone boat, Lizzy looked up to realize that it was, indeed, gone. She turned her head back to Jack when he spoke again. "Knowing Gibbs and the rest o' them scalawags, I may be needin' a place to stay the night, savvy?" His brows waggled again, this time suggestively, making her laugh.

"Jack," she scolded gently. "I've just seen Will off. Besides, with Bill…" She was interrupted by her son's voice, calling to her from the jungle of trees and underbrush behind them. Looking over her shoulder, she realized he was making his way to shore; apparently, he'd gotten bored. Turning back to Jack, she finished in a murmured, "It wouldn't be appropriate."

Chuckling softly, Jack nodded imperceptibly as young William Turner the Third arrived on the scene. His hat, Jack was pleased to see, was modeled after his own. "Who's this, then?" he asked, squatting down to Billy's eye level. "Surely not another Will Turner, aye?"

Billy's cheeks reddened, but he held his ground and nodded. "Yes, sir," he replied. "But everyone calls me Billy."

"What's all this, then?" Jack straightened and gave the lad a once over. "No self-respectin' pirate says _yessir._ It be _aye,_ savvy?"

Grinning, Billy replied, "Aye, sir." Then, cocking his head to the side, Billy asked, "Are you a sailor, sir? Like my father?"

"Aye, that I am, young master Turner," Jack confirmed. "I happened to know your father, as it were. Used to sail all over the seas with him, I did. Originally to find your mum." He nodded to Elizabeth, who blushed. Jack smirked. "Saved me neck from the gallows, they did."

Billy's eyes widened and he looked from Jack to his mother. "Mother," he asked. "Is this the captain of the famous pirate ship? The _Black Pearl_?"

Before Elizabeth had a chance to respond, Jack said, "No! Not I." To Elizabeth's surprise, he seemed affronted at the mere thought. "I, young master, happen to be the captain of a very fine ship, not that barnacle crusted hull. **My** ship is the _Lizzy T._"

Elizabeth blinked once more in surprise, her incredulous gaze on the pirate captain she had so admired in her youth. "Jack…" she began, but he quickly continued before she could say more.

As Jack had hoped, young William Turner was intrigued. The boy no doubt had his father's pirate blood coursing its way in his veins. Combine that with his mother's passion for life, and he'd make a devil of a sailor one day. Jack could even see him sailing the _Lizzy T._ one day. The old seadog was shaken from his thoughts, though, by the boy's next question.

"Where did you get the _Lizzy T, _Captain?" he asked.

"Well, now," Jack began, "someday, iffen I get the chance, I'll tell you, savvy?"

Billy frowned. He loved a good fish tale. He gazed up at his mother, his eyes pleading. "Can he stay with us tonight, mother? Please?"

Still a bit riled from Jack's admission to owning a ship, a _home,_ named for her, Elizabeth nodded dazedly. "Y-yes," she said, plastering a smile on her face. She looked down at her son and patted his head. "Of course he can. That is, of course," she added, turning to Jack with a hint of warning in her eye, "if Captain Sparrow isn't opposed to the idea."

Jack, seeing the warning flash in her eyes, gave an imperceptible nod of acceptance. Not that he was giving up; after all, it was a beautiful night. The perfect night, in fact, to sleep under the stars and coax some information from the youngest Turner family member. "Perhaps another time, young Billy," he told the young man. "For tonight, I'll take me respite right here." With that, he sat down on the sand, knees drawn partly to his chest. "Iffen your mother allows, you're welcome to join me." His eyebrows rose in simultaneous invitation for the boy and challenge for the woman.

"Can I, mama?" Billy asked, excitement building in his young form.

Elizabeth wanted to glare at Jack. Yes, he was a friend, an old flame, actually; main reason she didn't want him sleeping in the same house. But there was also the threat of him telling her son more than she wanted him to know about her past. Deliberating, she said, "I don't know…"

Billy's face fell. "Oh, please, Mother, please," he begged.

"Oh, come now, Elizabeth," Jack murmured. "A single night under the stars; what's the harm, eh?"

This time, she _did_ frown at him. "I just don't need you filling his head with _stories,"_ she bit out.

Jack had the gall to look offended. "Me?" He held a palm over his chest. "I ain't a teller of tales, Mrs. Turner, as you well know. That's Mr. Gibbs' specialty, iffen you recall."

"Who's Mr. Gibbs?" Billy asked suddenly. He looked with curious eyes from Elizabeth to Jack and back again.

Gritting her teeth, Elizabeth ignored her son's question. "Oh, very well," she snapped quietly at Jack. "Stay at the house if you like. Better I keep an eye on you whilst you fill my son's head with the past. But," she added in warning, "if you put one toe out of line, I'll throw you out at sword point."

Grinning triumphantly, Jack replied, "Wouldn't dream of it."


End file.
